Twixt Two Equal Armies (51 page)

Hamish pondered this — to his mind — very generous interpretation of the obligations of a heroic horseman. As far as he could deduce from all the adventure stories, the prime reason for engaging in displays of gallantry was to beat the enemy soundly and, if possible, through the utmost exertion of one’s capabilities and skills. It still seemed to him Lord Baugham had failed in that, seeing as Hamish was convinced his lordship surely could have beaten anyone in the most dashing way he chose to.

But still, if Miss Tournier was of the opinion that gentlemanly behaviour included losing with grace and affability, he supposed he could grant that Lord Baugham did possess gentlemanly manners.

“Aye, miss,” Hamish said hesitantly, “I daursay ye’re right. Although I do think in all fairness,” he said a little more determinedly, “that it would also be gentlemanly to treat a sporting engagement seriously.”

Or,
Holly thought darkly, to treat a friend, or even employee with respect enough to allow her to finish her sentence and not ignore her just because someone else comes along to flatter you and invite you to supper.
But this was not about her and her bruised feelings, or even his lordship’s manners truly, this was about Hamish, and she did want him to learn the principles of gentlemanly conduct. She swallowed her feelings of bitterness and put the best face on Lord Baugham’s actions that she could.

“That is just it, Hamish. This was a sporting competition, not a struggle for freedom or a battle to preserve life and limb. It was a friendly race between neighbours. Sometimes a gentleman must choose which battles are worth fighting, and sometimes it demonstrates more strength to be humble than to swagger and lord it over others.”

Hamish, having just benefited from a prime display of swaggering and lording by his own family, began to see the sense of what Miss Tournier was saying. He also reflected that his lordship’s kind indulgence of his absorption with the adventures of Captain Bob and how he so understandingly took part in his fascination might be comparable to what Miss Tournier was saying about his chivalrous behaviour on the racecourse. In that light, of course, his lordship did seem quite heroic indeed.

“Yea, that’s so, an all,” he said eagerly, suddenly remembering something else praiseworthy. “And did ye see how he had to stay on his horse when all the wee ones was crowding in? He couldnae hae very well jumped off and let him loose, could he?”

Hamish, almost restored in faith and spirit, looked at Miss Tournier with wide-eyed wonder.

“But I do wished he would hae won. Don’t ye, miss?”

Holly, who would by no means weaken the admiration of this boy who until now, had few, if any, heroes in his life, returned his wide-eyed stare. “That was a very fine thing he did indeed. I am sure he could have won if not for that.”

And it was the truth, she thought. That, after all, is what she had tried to tell him herself.

This answer seemed to satisfy the boy, for he nodded his head gravely and walked on beside her in silence.

“Miss,” he said at length. “Are ye and his lairdship just being chivalrous to me, too? I try my best but I cannae help but think . . . me not in school an all. Haen’t been for two years, though when I was, Mr Crossly used to say I did well. I should like to know even if ye are, you know.”

The earnestness behind those bright eyes made Holly pause and carefully consider before making her answer.

“Hamish, the code of chivalry proscribes good manners and proper behaviour. So, if I were merely being chivalrous toward you, I would give my curtsey and greet you politely when we meet on the street or in church. Lord Baugham, to be polite, would give you a nod as you passed him by. This is all that is required for good manners.

“You, Master Nethery, have been noticed because of your worth. You showed yourself to Mrs Tounier to be quick-witted, able, eager and willing to work. That in turn is what led her to recommend you to Lord Baugham. You have proven to be all these things, in addition to being a very pleasant walking companion.”

Blushing, the boy walked quietly by her side obviously pleased with her answer. Holly was thoughtful, pondering his previous words. Just as they reached the gate of Rosefarm Cottage, Holly broached the subject.

“Hamish, I know you were taken out of school and I can see you are sorry for it. I would be happy to work with you in continuing your education if you like. I believe there are great things ahead for you, Hamish, and I would be honoured to help you achieve all that you are able.”

“Oh Miss Tournier! . . . yes,” he stammered, “ . . . thank ye, miss! That would be . . . I would like that very much, please!”

The smile he gave her warmed her heart. In truth, she had not seen that kind of smile and gratitude mingled with enthusiasm for a very long time. Not since she left Hockdown School, when she had been dismissed and sent home. But it was not the smiles of the girls at the seminary she suddenly remembered with regret. It was those young boys at the penny school that she had been told was such a disgrace. How could doing anything that awarded a smile like that ever be a disgrace?

The thought stayed with her as Hamish hastily removed his cap in a salute before setting off in a run back to the village. Suddenly she felt a desperate need to talk to her mother. Common sense would drive away this curious mix of regret, sentimentality and ire the Martinmas fair had left her with.

M
RS
T
OURNIER WAS ENERGETICALLY STIRRING
her tea when she heard the sound of voices coming down the lane. Looking up in the expectation of company when the door opened, she was slightly disappointed when her daughter walked in alone. She hardly let the girl kiss her cheek and bid her a good evening before she demanded an account of the fair.

“Did I not hear two voices outside?” she asked, “Who has been so gallant as to drag himself away from such entertainments as to walk you home? And why is he not worth a cup of tea for his troubles?”

“That was Hamish Nethery, Maman,” Holly said sternly. “Practically the only gentleman in attendance today — in practice, if not in station, at any rate — and he needed to get back to his family. I am very sorry to disappoint you and your frightful need for gossip, but I could not have asked for a better or more amusing protector on my way home from that . . . affair.”

“You think I want gossip?” she asked. “Oh, very well, perhaps I do, but spare me the cows, pantomimes and Sir Torquil’s conversation, Lie-lie, and tell me something that is not enacted every year, in exactly the same way every year, under the tiresome demand of heeding to tradition. I take it, then, that his lordship stayed well away from the spectacle?”

Holly helped herself to tea and toast before taking her seat. “No, he was there. But really Maman,” she smiled, “I think the livestock was the most interesting and I wish you would let me tell you about it.”

Mrs Tournier huffed. “Livestock!” she said in contempt. “But I’m glad you ran into Hamish. Tell me, how is that boy doing?”

“Oh, he is doing very well. I like him very much — although he has quite the case of hero worship and had a hard time reconciling himself to the fact that Lord Baugham lost his bid for victory in the Ramsey race.”

Holly took a bite of toast before continuing, with a wicked glint in her eye, “Are you sure you do not want to hear of the cows? Then I could tell you that Primmie Tristam took quite an interest in his lordship — but that is no surprise, is it? And, I might add, found it necessary to warn me about getting too high for my station!”

Her mother cocked her head and looked curious.

“Oh yes!” Holly went on, now realising that a good acid response may have been impossible when Miss Tristam was so busy pouring all that poison into her ear, but that she had every right to attempt one now. “She very helpfully instructed me to remember my place’ she even advised me that books and weather were the only subjects I should ever attempt to discuss with his lordship, since everything else would be tantamount to flirting. I, you understand Maman, am merely the hired help and in danger of being trifled with at every turn like any common scullery maid! Can you believe it? Primmie warned
me
about being trifled with!””

“Cows indeed . . . ” Mrs Tournier groaned. “That girl is such a trial on one’s thin veneer of civility. I hope that some gentleman will offer for her soon and relieve poor Ned McMahon — it
was
he who won the race again, was it not? — of the obligation of that yearly kiss. I can imagine that her mother did her best to foist her off on one of the gentlemen in attendance? That would have been a kindness she would have enjoyed.”

“Oh there was no need for that, she very quickly foisted
herself
off on Lord Baugham, and he was by no means unhappy with the fact. I am sure they enjoyed a great deal of inane conversation together. I left soon afterwards — I can never abide silly flirtations — I just do not have the stomach for it.”

Holly then launched into an account of the race, and descriptions of the people and marketplace, adding a few derogatory comments on her nemesis when she could slip them in without seeming to be too affected, as well as a few choice words on his lordship’s spine in choosing his company, but Mrs Tournier only looked thoughtfully at her daughter after her spontaneous outburst, scarcely listening at all.

“Oh, and she pressed the poor man into joining them for ‘a little supper’ just as I was leaving. He must be regretting his choice now . . . and I tell you, I cannot wait until I get back to that calamity at Clyne he calls a library and prove myself to be a saviour rather than ‘nothing better than a maid’!” she finished.

“Really?” her mother said slowly. “And there are no redeeming features of that lordly collection at all?”

“Maman, there are so many books to sort and classify that I must admit I have hardly been paying attention to the titles, except to decide which category to place them in. Even as bare as the shelves appear, once they’re stacked on the floor, there seem to be four times as many of them. But, if you must know, most of it is rubbish. I’m sorry to say”, she added with false charity.

Holly proceeded to describe the progress of her work, far beyond the capacity of her mother to endure such details of explanation. She pushed aside her work, took off her spectacles and put them in her pocket.

“It is time we had some supper ourselves, I think. “

As they walked to the small dining room, Holly’s thoughts reverted to another point of permanent worry and annoyance over the fickle behaviour of gentlemen as she once again shared her confusion and frustration at the lack of news from Elizabeth.

“I just don’t understand what the delay can be. Mr Darcy appeared so eager, his intentions toward her were so clear . . . you saw him with her . . . I thought for sure he would have made an offer by now.”

Mrs. Tournier sat down across from her daughter and they waited while Mrs. Higgins filled their soup bowls.

“Yes, I surely did see him with her. And her with him. There was no shortage of encouragement from your cousin, nor is there any shame in it when one takes into account the man’s obvious affection for her. But are you so eager after all, Lie-lie, for Elizabeth to be married? You were not so keen on the idea just a short time ago.”

Holly paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. “It would make her happy, Maman!”

“And you can live with that?”

“Of course I can,” she protested, but then looked thoughtful, “Well, I suppose I didn’t like the idea at first — but after he went to such lengths to pursue her I was convinced.

“Although I wonder,” she said, occupying herself with scraping the last drops of broth and cabbage from her bowl, “do you think maybe I should ask Lord Baugham if he has heard from him? Perhaps Mr Darcy might have gone to his estate in Derbyshire first and been held up with business? His lordship might have some news that I can include in a letter. That is, if such a subject is proper for the hired help to broach with her employer.”

Mrs. Tournier merely raised her eyebrows as she sipped her soup, watching Holly spoon a large helping of cottage pie onto her plate.

“Upon my word, how things have changed. There was a time when you could hardly keep a civil tongue in your head about, or towards, his lordship and now here you come home, very much put out over the idea that your conversational subjects ought to be limited. I would be very interested to know what it is you
have
been talking about. Surely books and the weather were never a real option despite Miss Tristam’s concern?”

For some inexplicable reason, Holly felt a blush rising to her cheeks. Feeling stupid, she took her time before answering casually, “Oh, we just talk of general things. Books — yes, but also art, education — those sorts of things. He asked how we came to settle in Scotland. Actually, I think he is very curious about you and Papa; he asks a lot about our family though he does not speak much about himself.

“Lately I am finding him,
had
found him to be, curiously easy to talk to . . . that is, when he isn’t being inattentive or irritable.”

She watched as her mother poured out the tea for her.

“Notwithstanding the spiteful motive behind her words, perhaps it would be for the best if you follow Miss Tristam’s advice and keep to civilities and business with his lordship. I like the man. And although I do not think he is the sort to be frightened away from visiting by the offensive manners of a girl, I should find it very tiresome to have to always enjoy his company away from you or suffer the consequences. After all, he will most likely be leaving soon and I should like to have the pleasure of his visits for as long as he is still here.”